Author's Note: It's Christmas Eve already! Time flies when you're having fluff. And boy howdy, are we having fluff! Today's fluffy Christmas fic is for Anonymous, who read my query yesterday about other potential side stories and suggested one I hadn't thought of, Timing, Degree and Conviction. In that story, Josh and CJ wind up getting locked down together in No Exit instead of CJ and Donna, and wind up having a chat that changes the entire Gaza arc significantly. Anon wanted a Christmastime followup to that story, and since it's season 6, that of course means dealing with Impact Winter, the world's most unChristmasy Christmas episode.
This story will probably make a little more sense if you've read the four chapters of TD&C, but all you really need to know going in is that Josh and Donna got together in Germany after the CODEL bombing and have been working together since then (with changes on paper to make it so she doesn't officially work for him but still assists him). Other major events pretty much unfolded as scheduled. Hope you enjoy!
…...
Josh slipped into the bedroom as quietly as he could, stripping down to his boxers and checking the alarm clock by the faint glow of twinkle lights in the window. It was after midnight again, the fourth night in a row. At least tonight they hadn't both needed to stay. He lifted the blankets and slid into bed with barely a rustle, rather proud of himself for his consideration.
"You're freezing," Donna mumbled peevishly, even as she snuggled closer automatically. "Did you walk again?"
"God, no," he assured her, wrapping one arm around her deliciously warm and sleepy form, pressing his chest to her back. "I had to take out the garbage and it's just that cold out."
"Brrr," she agreed with a yawn. "What time is it?"
"Quarter to one. Merry Christmas Eve-Eve," he told her ruefully.
"The summit again?"
"And the asteroid, though they're pretty confident now that it's going to be a miss." He warmed his nose against the back of her neck, eliciting a sleepy giggle. "I'm sorry I missed lunch today."
"And yesterday, and the day before," she reminded him. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to avoid me."
"My methods would leave a little something to be desired." Josh planted an openmouthed kiss to the nape of her neck, nibbling just a little bit. "This, for instance, not a winning strategy in the avoidance effort."
Donna made a pleased little humming noise but then rolled over to look him in the eye. "It's not avoiding, but it's still not talking to me," she pointed out. "You're too distracting."
"I think that was a compliment, somehow. You know how I feel about compliments." He moved in again to pay the same attention to the delicate line of her jaw. "Can't get enough of them," he mumbled against her skin.
"Jossshhh..." She hummed again, then put the heel of her hand to the middle of his forehead and pushed him gently away. "You know what I want to talk to you about, and that's why you've been avoiding it. I need more responsibility in my job. I love working with you, but I don't want to be an assistant anymore. Even your assistant."
He frowned thoughtfully at her. "You're right, you need something better. How about campaign policy strategist? I think that would fit you well."
Donna blinked. "You think I should go work for the Russell campaign? I thought-"
"No!" Josh yelped. "Never, ever work for the Russell campaign! You know if you left I'd have to go after you and beg Will Bailey for a job, and then I'd get fired almost immediately for calling him Bingo Bob one too many times and it would all end in disaster." She snickered at the truth of that, and he raised a hand to cup her cheek. "I had something else in mind. Matt Santos."
"Matt Santos?" she echoed. "Health care Matt Santos? The triumph of principles over politics guy? I thought he was quitting."
"He's quitting Congress," Josh confirmed. "He thinks he's done with politics, but I think he's just getting started. I think he could be the guy."
Donna's eyes widened. "You want to run Matt Santos in the primary?"
"I want to put Matt Santos in the White House," he told her with a confident grin. "I can't do it without you. If you want to stay in the administration and stick it out, we'll do that, but I don't think either of us feels like it's the place for us anymore. It'll be a shoestring campaign at first, nobody's going to give us a chance. We'll be working out of people's houses-"
"Sleeping on buses?" she suggested with a grin. "Selling our cars?"
"Could be," he agreed. "And the first thing we'll need to do is convince the guy to run. I've got a plan roughed out, I think we can refine it to something great. But if we're going to do it, we need to be down there yesterday talking to him. The filing deadline-"
"Oh my god, the filing deadline! Can we even do it?" she asked.
"Barely," he told her. "After the Republicans screwed the pooch four years ago, the state moved its filing deadline rather than risk getting skipped entirely by the candidates. But like I said, not a lot of time for talking. I think it's worth a shot, at least. What do you think?"
She studied him soberly for a minute, raising a hand and putting it over his on her cheek. They'd come such a long way this year, through the bombing in Gaza and her long recovery, through Leo's heart attack and the restructuring of the White House, through the whitewater rapids of their developing relationship and its many potential pitfalls. Sometimes it felt like he was barely hanging on by his fingertips to his job, to his reputation, to his sanity. But he was still holding on to her, and that made it all okay. Whatever they did, it would be okay. But he still held his breath.
"I think," she said slowly, "that senior campaign policy strategist has a nice ring to it."
He grinned, felt his heart start to beat faster. "Senior, huh? Ambitious."
"Gotta start thinking ahead," she told him, her smile matching his. "If we're going all the way to the White House with this, I want my foot in the door early."
"There's probably room for negotiation on the titles," he assured her. "But first we need our guy. You need to move all my meetings for tomorrow and book us tickets to Houston, and I've got to work on a new draft of the nine point plan. Unless it should be a ten point plan."
"No, I think nine is enough." Donna laughed softly, pulling him back down when he attempted to get out of bed. "Josh, Josh! It's one in the morning on Christmas Eve-Eve. I can't rearrange any of your meetings for at least another five hours, and we're not going to be booking any tickets till then either. We just worked a sixteen and eighteen hour day today, it's time to get some rest."
"How can you rest?" he demanded, flailing a little bit as she tugged him down to the mattress. "I'm not going to sleep at this point, I can tell you that much. There's planning to do, phone calls to make, str-mmmph!" His words were cut off when she covered his mouth with hers, propping herself up to pin him to the bed with a kiss. It was quite a long kiss, laden with meaning and intention. He found himself very persuaded.
When Donna finally pulled away, Josh couldn't do much but gasp for a few moments. "Fine then," she told him with a soft laugh, "stay awake, just don't leave the bed. If we've got a lot of sleeping on buses in our near future, we should take advantage while we can."
He took her arms and flipped her, this time pinning her gently to the bed. "See, ideas like that are what make you such a good strategist."
"Senior strategist," she reminded him.
"We'll see." She laughed, and then his mouth was on hers again, and it was time to not talk politics for awhile. Maybe the Santos thing would work out and maybe it wouldn't, but he figured so long as they had each other, things were going to be just fine. Unless Bob Russell became president, and then all bets- Donna's hands found their way under his last remaining clothes, and any remaining thoughts flew out of his head. Everything was going to be very, very good.